


Resurrection

by orphan_account



Series: "Did you miss me?" [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Faked Suicide, Jim Being an Idiot, Jim is a Little Shit, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Murder, Power Couple, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sebastian Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8387842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Another one shot continuing on from Absence. Jim has come back from the dead and Sebastian doesn't know how to react.>>Trigger Warning: Themes of suicide





	

"Well I have to say this isn't quite the reception I was expecting."

Jim was still stood in the doorway, light thrown over half of his face as he looked down at Sebastian with a mildly disgusted expression. Moran was vomiting violently, clutching the side of the battered leather sofa.

After heaving uncontrollably for another few minutes Sebastian finally gathered himself enough to look back up at where he thought he had seen Jim. His voice had seemed so close, so real, but it couldn’t have been. Jim was long dead. Blew his own brains out. Nobody survives that.

And yet as he stared the ghost remained, standing perfectly still, hands in pockets, looking back at him.

"Moran." The ghost addressed him, his voice was low and riddled with concern.

"Get out." Sebastian growled. "You're dead, leave me alone. I don't want this."

"Sebastian." The ghost said again. "This is real."

Seb looked at him, hard. He certainly looked real- perfectly fitting suit, gelled black hair and the faint smell of mint chewing gum seemed as substantive as they had been two years ago. Not a hair out of place.

"You can’t be alive. You can't have been alive, not all this time."

Jim just looked at him, his head slightly cocked to one side.

The realisation began to dawn on Sebastian- what if this had all been a trick, a distraction? Jim had convinced the world he didn’t exist before, but Sebastian had known the truth. He was always in the know, the only one truly in on the trick. But what if this time Jim had pulled the wool over his eyes too? Lied to him like he was just anyone, any old fucking bystander or member of the general public.

"You were…alive." He said slowly, "You let me believe you were dead, for two years. You left me."

"I-" Jim started to speak.

“NO YOU LEFT ME!” Seb interrupted, rage boiling up inside as the reality came crashing down on him.

“I wanted to _die_ , Jim. I found out you were dead and I couldn’t _breathe_. YOU BLEW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT AND LEFT ME HERE ALONE!”

There was a pause.

“I came back.” Jim finally said.

“ _You came back_ , what so you think that makes it okay? You put me through hell but you’re back now so everything can just go back to normal? What did you think was going to _happen_ , Jim? What if you were too late, what if you came back to find me face down on the floor with a bullet in my head?”

“I wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.”

“You wouldn’t- you were watching me?” Sebastian demanded, “You were keeping me alive for when you decided to come back? That’s fucked up, Jim. You know what? I don’t even know why I’m surprised, I always knew you were a fucking psychopath.”

Jim raised one eyebrow and took a step further into the room.

“Are you done?”

Sebastian took two large strides across the room to grab the gun on the coffee table, turn back to Jim and hold it at a steady aim towards his head in a split second.

  
“AM I DONE?” He roared. “TWO YEARS, JIM! I’LL BE DONE WHEN THAT WALL’S COVERED WITH THE CONTENTS OF YOUR HEAD, HOW ABOUT THAT?”

Jim didn’t flinch, his flat black eyes bore into Sebastian’s for a moment before he reached down into his pocket and took out a packet of chewing gum, popping one into his mouth with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, I’ve missed this.”

Sebastian gripped the gun steadily, grinding his teeth as Jim chewed obnoxiously. He was hit by wave after wave of Deja Vu, the chewing gum, the scent of cologne, the feel of Jim’s stare.

He lowered the gun slowly and Jim’s smile grew wider.

“Come on, Honey.” He cocked his head to one side again, “You haven’t answered my question.”

This was too much. The relief of Jim’s presence was washing over him with such force it physically hurt, and Seb’s lungs felt like they were collapsing as he exhaled.

“I’ve missed you.” Sebastian breathed, “I’ve missed you.”

He took a step towards Jim and grabbed the back of his head with the hand the gun had just fallen from, their faces inches apart. Seb paused and they stood like that for a few seconds, breathing each other in, before Seb leaned closer and with trembling lips, kissed Jim lightly.

The relief was so intense it almost hurt, he felt like a drug addict taking their first hit after two years of being clean. Once he started he couldn’t stop.  
He kissed Jim again, and again, growing more fierce each time. His hands moved from the back of his head to his waist, the small of his back, around his neck, desperately compensating for so long without contact.

Jim responded almost as aggressively as Sebastian, and began pushing him across the room towards the leather sofa he had just got up from, barely remembering to avoid the spot on the floor where Seb had vomited.

They crashed down onto the sofa, gripping each other relentlessly as they kissed, lost in each other for the first time in two years.

Finally, Jim pulled away slowly and looked at his sniper, his black eyes glinting gently.

“I want you to come and work for me again.”

Sebastian nodded, tightening his grip on the back of Jim’s neck as he leant his forehead into the other man’s.

“How do I know you won’t leave me again?”

“You don’t.” Jim answered simply, but his voice sounded solemn, almost sad.

Seb took a deep breath, but accepted the answer. Jim Moriarty, by his very nature, was aggressively unpredictable, and two years of misery had seemed almost worth the past hour in his presence. He had to accept that if he made the choice to take the drug, he had to prepare for the addiction.

“Sherlock’s alive.” Jim said in a slightly strained voice, like he was either trying to hold back fury or excitement.

Seb looked at him.

“What?”

“He faked his death. Fucking bastard thought he’d fooled me. The cheek of it.”

Seb’s suspicion had been correct, Sherlock Holmes, the man he had gone through all this for, had been alive this whole time while Seb had to live without his reason for living. Probably living peacefully somewhere in Europe, he and Watson having a good old laugh about it.

He began to feel angry again, furious, and all ill will he had harboured for Jim dissolved and transferred itself to Holmes. All of this was his fault, he had taken Jim away from him, and now he was going to pay for it.

“He needs to be destroyed.” Jim stated, as if reading Sebastian’s mind.

“I’m gonna make sure that man’s dead by the end of the year if I have to push him off a building myself.” Seb growled.

Jim’s eyes glinted, “As much as I could listen to you talk about killing Sherlock Holmes for hoouurss, I have work to do.” He made to get up before Seb pulled him back into his grip.

“No.” Sebastian contradicted him, “You don’t have to do shit but stay here with me. After everything you fucking did to me you can stay with me tonight without having to rush off doing ‘work’ and leaving me alone."

Jim raised his eyebrows but his eyes were lit up with excitement.

“Okay, Sexy, whatever you say.”

They kissed again, slowly, Jim twisting his fingers gently between locks of Sebastian’s hair.

He pulled away again.

“I hope you know this is a one off, after tonight I’m not letting you near me until you look how you did the day I left, this ‘broken man’ aesthetic is doing nothing for you. When was the last time you...washed?”

Jim’s eyes flickered over the other man’s body with an air of distaste.

“I’m not sure.” Seb admitted, it felt strange to think about the man he had been not a few hours ago, he had told Jim it wasn’t going to be the same as when he left, but honestly it felt like the past two years had been erased from his system. All it took was Jim, kissing him, touching him, and he felt cured.

“Well you’re gonna have to sort your shit out, I have a reputation to uphold. And no more being a sloppy serial killer, we’re better than that.”

“You know about the-“

“The poor souls who wandered underneath the apartment window and dropped dead, yes I know about that, very disappointing.”

“Hey, all that was on you.” Sebastian argued. “Those people would still have been alive if you hadn’t killed yourself, I was in a bad place.”

“My conscience can take it.” Jim shrugged.

“Better them than me.” Sebastian said quietly.

Jim looked at him, “Better anyone than you. I need a sniper.”

Seb pulled Jim towards him again, wrapping one arm around his back and cupping his face in the other hand. The early morning light fell on both their faces, and lit up tiny specks of green and brown in Jim’s black eyes. This was it, Sebastian thought, this was as close to anything like Heaven as he was going to get. If he had ever believed in a higher power, it was Jim Moriarty.

They stared at each other for a long time without saying anything, Seb’s heart still pounding in his chest, deeply inhaling the smell of mint and cologne. It felt like hours before the angel spoke again, his voice low and husky, like fine music to Sebastian Moran’s ears after an eternity of silence.

“I missed you too.”


End file.
